Curious Peter and Caitlin
by Firefly01
Summary: Almost involuntarily, her head turned slowly to the right and her eyes sought out the little box sitting on the table. Inside held all of Peter’s secrets.


Caitlin opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. She didn't need to look to know that it was well past midnight. Her internal clock ticked off the hours easily and she knew that working tomorrow was going to be hard.

The night was chilly, and she reached down to pull the blanket up higher, snuggling down into the soft mattress in an attempt to trick her brain into going to sleep. _Come on girl, you need your rest_, she told herself, but it was no use. Her eyes popped open again, and her brain refused the command to shut down.

She knew what the problem was.

Almost involuntarily, her head turned slowly to the right and her eyes sought out the little box sitting on the table. Inside held all of Peter's secrets.

It wasn't right of her to be so curious. After all, hadn't she advised Peter to wait? Stupid! She wanted to know as badly as he must have, but at the same time, whatever hid inside of that box scared her to death. Caitlin knew that as soon as he opened it, he would leave.

Whoever Peter was in real life, (for all of this had to be a dream right?) would call him home, and she'd be left alone, discarded. What if he was married? What if he had children? What if his beautiful wife was worried about him and cried every night over the loss of him?

Her brother had seen the contents of the box and had not been impressed. "Nothing special," he'd said when she asked.

Nothing special. The words rang through her head and tolled like a bell. Certainly he must be somebody special- somebody extraordinary indeed to be able to do what he can do. Perhaps the past he'd left behind was a tragic one? For that, she was glad that he kept the box away. Be gone with it! Throw it in the sea and let it all wash away.

But he wanted to know. She knew this. Slowly, the pull of the box was becoming stronger, and she saw him twice glance at it before bed. She's tried to drown out the temptation by luring him away with her body and heart. Peter's touch was magical, and she could feel the tiny prickling heat of crackling energy emanate from his hands as they roamed over her.

In her girlish heart, she told herself that she loved him. Loved his lopsided smile and the way he kissed. This wasn't one of the boys from the pub grabbing and groping her. He was gentle and sweet and she never ever wanted to let him go. Certainly not to a wife he didn't even remember.

Caitlin looked over at Peter who slept soundly at her left. The easy rise and fall of his chest told her that he was in a deep slumber. Feeling determined, she pushed the covers back and eased herself out of bed, keeping her eyes on him the entire time. Peter never moved, and this made her feel both triumphant and guilty at the same time for what she was about to do.

With soft, even steps, she walked over to the box and set her hands on it. Such an ordinary box to hold something so incredible. She ran her fingers over the grooves in the lid and willed herself to open it- to find out once and for all what Peter would be leaving her for.

Or maybe she didn't have to open it. She wouldn't even have to hold that in her head if she didn't want to. The fire still glowed faintly, but there was enough flame left to burn the box if she willed it so.

Nervously, she picked the box up and held it in front of her, cradling it like a child. She stared into the fire and listened to it crackle. The red embers glowed and hissed and beckoned her to give to it a last meal.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she realized that she couldn't do it. Not to Peter. It was his box, and his life that she would have thrown away, and that wasn't right.

Caitlin set the box back down on the table and crawled back in bed, feeling foolish. She snuggled down again against Peter's side and felt sleep finally come.

As the fire began to die, Peter opened his eyes and glanced over Caitlin to the box on the table. He was going to have to open it, and soon.

Maybe tomorrow.


End file.
